


Blowing smoke

by ChloShow



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: /careless whisper plays from every possible direction/, M/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 19:23:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2121756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloShow/pseuds/ChloShow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Larry gets a handle on the new kid they're considering for the diamond heist team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blowing smoke

The evening had disappeared about half an hour ago, the sun’s glow now replaced by neon and xenon and whatever the hell else filled those signs advertising cheap entertainment and easy coke.  From what he gathered, each candidate for a job went through an interview process with the Boss, and he’d scored a second meeting, which he couldn’t tell whether that was because they were thorough or just suspicious. One of the older guys had asked him outside, playing it to the others as a smoke break, but honestly, he seemed a little too intense for your run-of-the-mill smoke break.  
“We need to talk about what you just pulled in there.” The club's back door had barely closed as he asked _. God, he wished they had pseuds already so he could refer to him with something other than the regular, roundabout phrases._  
  
“What-I don’t understand.” He really didn’t.   
“Don’t play that coy shit with me. I know straight men and straight men don’t do what you just did.” He was pointing at him now, voice not too loud, but still rough enough to get to the bottom of whatever he thought was up.  
  
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, man.” _I was just listening to you tell a fuckin story in there, now you think I’m some rat? Well, I am, but it doesn’t make any sense!_  
He tried to wear a neutral, innocent expression, but maybe that made him look worse because the guy wasn’t backing down.  
  
“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”  
The guy corners him up against the alley wall, and _Alright, I don’t see a gun on him but he’s about to fuckin punch my lights out and go back to the guys and tell em I’m a fake and a narc and—_  
“You tell me you’re straight, and we let this slide.” He does some hokey, magician-type move with his hand. “But say that you’re not?” He doesn’t elucidate beyond that, leaving a split second to consider wear they’ll be dumping his body, and then the guy places his hand firmly on his hip.  
  
 _Oh._ He hadn’t blown his cover. He was just about to be blown.  
He wasn’t exactly against it; this would gain the Boss’ trust if this guy vouched for him. And maybe he _did_ want this guy’s lips around his dick. Maybe he _did_ give him a look in there that said, ‘ _You wanna go out back and suck me off?’_ But he sure didn’t mean to.  


"Won’t they know?"  
“Kid, you don’t think I’ve done this before?” He’s smirking and unzipping Freddy’s fly, relieved he didn’t misread the kid’s signals.  
“Okay, I take it you ain’t got protection, but do you got anything going on, any diseases I need to know about beforehand?”  
  
 _This guy’s bein so frank about a semi-anonymous fuck, what a world._  
He shakes his head minutely and manages to mutter a “Nah, no,” laughing nervously, finally switching gears with the situation.  
“Good, just don’t get too loud, alright?” he whispers thickly, leaning in so that he nearly grazes his ear.    
Freddy breathes heavy, an uneven combination of nervousness and arousal, while the other guy’s fingers dip into his briefs, sliding them down. “Yeah, alright,” he doesn’t know what the fuck else to say.  They didn’t coach him what to do in case he received surprise head from one of the guys on his team. _Does he have to tell them this happened? Fuck, no, he’s leaving this out of any report._  
  
Meanwhile, the guy has already squatted, positioned so as to not get telltale dirt spots on his slacks; the hypotheticals racing through his mind stop once he feels lips on his cock.  
“I can’t believe—,” his head hits the brick behind him, and he considers the starless, light polluted sky above.  A hand presses his hips firmly into the wall while the other hand strokes his cock in time with the man’s mouth.  He twirls his tongue along the underside of his dick and slows a couple times, providing extra suction at the tip.  He pauses for a second to tease him and chuckles when he gets the desired reaction.  
“Hey, don’t, please don’t stop,” Freddy blindly feels for the man’s shoulder and moves to grasp his thick brown hair.  When the warmth returns to his dick, he glances down to find the guy looking playfully back at him, eyes shinning, crinkling.  
“GOD, FUCK, fucking shit!” he strains, remembering to keep quiet as he comes into the guy’s mouth, face screwing up.   
In the moment, it doesn’t matter that they don’t know each other’s names or that he’s a cop hired to uncover their operation or that he barely knows this fucker.  It doesn’t matter.  
  
He relaxes, and before he knows it, the man stands up.  
“Anything on my face?”  
Once again at a loss for words, he shakes his head, beginning to feel exposed against the night air.

“Alright.  When you come back in, the story is we shot the shit, I felt you out, yada yada.  Then I left to go to the bathroom.” He pulls a cigarette out of a box of Marlboro reds, puts it between his lips, lights it, gives it a puff, and transfers it to Freddy’s mouth.  He turns to leave, but decides to add something. “And kid?”  
Freddy raises his eyebrows in response.  
“Stay out here until you’re good, and Jesus Christ, pull up your pants already.”

He does so hastily, scanning the area for passersby and finally taking the time to appreciate the burn of the smoke in his lungs.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't care if the blow job scene feels too short. You're just lucky i didn't write "then he sucked his dik for approx 1.5 minutes. the end"


End file.
